Blue Lagoon
by TheKatInTheShade
Summary: When I was 13 my dad sat me down for a talk about sex, puberty and the facts of life. He then mentioned homosexuality. He called it a terrible weakness. It was then I learnt to hide, to fade into the background, to keep secrets.
1. Chapter 1

_This here story is for ThePetualntProdigy. Cheers my dear! _

_I like listening to music, watching it, getting drunk, taking my clothes off and dancing to it, but that's where it ends. I played the recorder when I was 9 (everyone wanted to be my friend because I could play it with my nose), but thats how far my gift for music stretches. I am not a pro and so I skipped over some stuff I feel it would be stupid to try and pretend I know a lot about. I am also __**not**__ down with the lingo. What the hell is slang for 'drummer' or 'drums'? I'll give you a back massage if you can name me some good ones._

* * *

><p>Foreigner's '<em>I want to know what love is'<em> blares through the small but powerful speaker on my phone. I tear through my bag in search of it, trying to ignore the smirks from other people on the school bus.

"_**I wanna know what love is! I want you to SHOW ME! I wanna feel what love is...**_"

Neliel and Grimmjow will pay for this. This is the _last_ time they steal my phone and change the ringtone in disgusting attempt to be funny. I am going to murder them while they sleep.

"Hello."

To anyone listening, it might appear as though I have railed in my feelings and answered the phone calmly, but lucky for me, the man on the other end of the line knows me better than that.

"Wha's botherin' ma precious Qui-chan?"

I hate it when he calls me that. And I wish he'd speak properly. That stupid accept drives me mad. I know he's fake. He's so full of shit it's practically coming out of his ears.

"Nothing." I state calmly.

"Awwh, don't be like'at, sweetness."

But despite everything, voice _still_ sends shivers up my spine.

"Like what?" I say for the sake of the conversation, uninterested in the answer. "I'm coming tonight. Why are you ringing me?"

Perhaps he's got some other kind of company with him tonight so I won't be needed. My blood runs cold and my insides turn to lead.

Or is he ringing to tell me, Grimmjow and Nel not to bother showing up? I fight the sudden disappointment that settles in my stomach. I'll have to break the news to them. That's going to be a pain.

"No reason." He replies. I can hear the amusement in his voice. He knows I'm sitting here anxiously waiting for his answer. He's just messing with me. That's all he's ever done. "I just thought I'd see how my love is doing."

"I'm your love? When did you decide this?" I ask lightly, but on the inside I'm so bitter and rotten, I feel like being sick.

"Still angry are we?" I hear him mutter; laughter lacing his words. "Never mind. You'll be there tonight, and you'll like it." He hangs up before I can speak, but really, what can I possibly say to that?

We both know he's right.

Ichimaru Gin is the most manipulative person you will ever meet. Within weeks of first meeting him, he had me naked from the waist down and bent over a table in some dark corner with three fingers up my ass.

I was nine days shy of my 15th birthday.

These past three years have been a learning curve to say the least.

He was there for me when it felt like no one else was. I've been bullied throughout my whole life; many people seem to disagree with my existence. Or at least they did. A lot has changed in recent months and Gin eventually lost interest.

But there was a time when my self-confidence was so low, I was like putty in his hands, lapping up his attention and poisonous words.

Even now, although we're long over, he is still special. I'm drawn to him. I can't turn him down. I can't say no.

If he asked me to run into a burning building, I probably would. The worst part is I couldn't tell you why. I don't think I'll ever understand.

But this past year has been looking up significantly when Nel approached me because she heard I wasn't a half-bad drummer and she was thinking of making a band with a friend of hers.

And so I met Grimmjow, the bane of my fucking existence.

While all of this proved to be very annoying, it ended up being a good distraction.

Gin broke up with me shortly after I first met Nel and when he ignored my existence for four months, I realised this was the true end of everything. He was throwing me away.

I stubbornly refused to have a melt down and so instead spent every waking hour sat behind my drum-set. Nel and Grimmjow joined me and we put our blood, sweat and tears into creating Hueco Mundo. To begin with I was only there to vent my frustration, Grimmjow just wanted to be the centre of attention, and Nel only ever seemed to feel good about herself when she was gripping her base.

Things changed. In time we began to take ourselves more seriously and our fanbase grew; everyone under the age of 25 in Karakura has heard us play or at the very least, is vaguely aware of who we are.

Then, about three weeks ago, Gin suddenly contacted me out of the blue.

I wish I could tell him to fuck off. But really, I wish I _wanted_ to. I've been able to avoid him up until now, but then he upped his game.

He got us a two hour time slot to play at Las Noches. He knows Aizen, the owner, and managed to pull some strings for us.

There were my own feelings for Gin to consider but Las Noches is fucking _huge_ right now and the wonders it could do for our reputation were to good to miss. So I grudgingly accepted, wondering what Gin was trying to prove.

Although Las Noches is a bit more 'up-class' than what most teenagers would usually go for, with it's expensive, sleek interior, and strict no-nonsense security, somehow Aizen has managed to make it appeal to everyone (coughcheapdrinkscough). Which is why this is such a good opportunity. Anyone who's anyone could be there, tucked away in a V.I.P booth or sipping a cocktail in a secluded corner.

I lean back in my seat on the musky bus and gently rest my head against the vibrating window, watching Karakura pass me by.

A small part of me is disappointed in myself for falling for this. Am I really that transparent? Gin knows I'll jump at this chance to play tonight. He knows I'll let him take me home afterwards. He knows I'll let him fuck me like a little bitch.

I hate him for that. But I hate myself even more letting him.

* * *

><p>The second time my phone starts ringing I manage to snatch it up before the singing gets too loud.<p>

"Hello Grimmjow."

"Where the hell are you?"

"Inside your mum."

"Oh, fuck you."

"She just did."

I can practically hear the blood vessel ticking in Grimmjow's temple.

"Alright, you bastard, where did you go after class? I was waiting right outside the door."

"I climbed out the window."

"Why? _God_, you're such a cock."

"I need to get food."

"Whatever. We're outside on the benc-"

I hang up deliberately, cutting Grimmjow off. I can almost picture him in my head swearing at his phone and throwing a hissy fit. He so easy. I'll admit it gives me a deep satisfaction whenever he looses his temper.

Grimmjow is the complete and utter polar opposite of me. Loud, dense, excessively violent. He's a waste of space. His only redeeming qualities are his on-stage charisma and singing voice, as well his ability to melt people's brains with the music he plays. But the rest of the time he's a pain in my ass.

Ha has an annoying habit of waiting for me after any lessons we have together. Then he gets angry when I creep past him unnoticed, leaving him waiting on his own for no one. It's kind of cruel, I guess, but I don't care. I'd do anything to piss him off.

I go to the canteen and buy some lunch, inhaling a baguette, some pizza and a milkshake as I head outside to the benches where Grimmjow and Nel always insist we sit. They are the only people I can really bear to be close to for any extended period of time, and even then it's still a chore. But it's better to sit with them than to float around on my own and have patronising teachers ask me if I'm _ok_. Yes I'm fine, you morons.

Plus Nel does a cooking class so I almost always get free food out of it.

As I approach, I can already hear Grimmjow arguing with someone about the latest album of some modern indie rock band. I watch as Nel flicks her long green hair over her shoulder and opens a baking tin to reveal a batch of still-warm chocolate-chip cookies. The small crowd gathered around swoops in for a taste and Nel holds one out for me to take with a small smile before they all disappear.

I take it wordlessly and glance around for a spare seat. A girl who sits with us sometimes and whose name I've forgotten jumps to her feet and offers me her seat. How pathetic. I sit down and begin to nibble on Nel's cookie which is like eating an orgasm, if that's even possible. The girl who offered me her seat squishes in with two other girls on another bench and the three of them swoon over me and giggle loudly, as if I can't hear them.

This pisses me off. I miss the seclusion of how things used to be. These past few months since we've begun to gain a bigger reputation amongst Karakura have given birth to obnoxious fans who suddenly want a piece of us. A piece of me. What's worse is that they think they're entitled to it.

I've become popular overnight. Everyone is in love with me. The clothes and makeup I wear suddenly aren't girly or retarded anymore and people have decided I'm actually not a fucking-emo-loser, as I so persistently used to be reminded. Now I'm perceived as shy, mysterious, which everyone seems to find attractive.

I actually feel slightly disgusted because these people don't _know_ me. No ones does, not really. Gin doesn't count. Nel and Grimmjow are peculiar exceptions, but I still feel apart from them.

I don't have a huge problem with people liking me, its just that they are in love with a lie. But I didn't start it. They just misunderstood.

I'm _quiet_, not shy. Big difference. And while I guess I am sort of mysterious, why is that a good thing? Straightforward people seem to have it easier. There's less room for confusion.

I'm a cold person but only a few people are close enough to me to realise this. I'm calculated as well. Perhaps a little manipulative. But not malicious. I know I'm not a bad person, I'm just a bit of an asshole.

Grimmjow jabs me in the back of my head to get my attention, seeming to not have forgotten me ditching and hanging up on him earlier. I turn around to see him sprawled across the middle of the pick-nick bench giving me the hairy eyeball.

"What did you get Nel, Douche?" I blink at Grimmjow's ever-so-sweet nickname for me.

I don't reply right away. I didn't miss the new delicate green bracelet Nel was wearing. Grimmjow always did have good taste, not that I'd ever admit it out loud.

After 18 long years, Nelliel is finally an adult. This gig in Las Noches has conveniently coincided with her birthday and she seems satisfied with getting drunk in town after we've played.

"Well?" Pressed Grimmjow, raising an eyebrow as his lip curled into a sneer. "You didn't bother, did you." It wasn't a question. I sighed.

"No, I didn't." There was no point in denying it.

Grimmjow just shook his head, his expression falling slightly. He breathed out an exasperated huff and flopped his head down into the crook of his arm. "You idiot." He told me.

"That doesn't mean much coming from you." I gave him a condescending look, expecting him to rise to the bait like he always does. If Grimmjow throws the first punch then that usually gives me a chance to sneak in and knock him on his ass. But to my surprise Grimmjow just eyes me warily.

"I'm not falling for that. It's her _birthday_, Douche." He pulled away slightly before pausing and giving me a hard look. "Are you really that heartless?"

I shrugged. My face remained in its normal expression of superior indifference, even though that wasn't how I was feeling on the inside. Of all the names I've ever been called, _heartless_ is the only one left that still burns a little. Although I know its just a word. I'm not heartless. Not really. Or am I? Is that why it hurts? Because it has some truth behind it?

"What do you want me to say?" It was meant as a rhetorical question but Grimmjow felt compelled to answer.

"Apologise for being a selfish dick."

My lips twitch in the shadow of a snarl.

"Make me."

We glared at each other for a few more moments before he growled in annoyance and turned away. I did the same but not before I noticed Nel swiftly start up a conversation with one of her friends a few feet away, blinking furiously and forcing a smile. I began to pick at the cookie in my lap.

I wish the world would fit around me instead of me trying and _failing_ to fit in with the world.

* * *

><p>Nnoitra flicks through his ipod for some good music before pulling away from the curb.<p>

I'll never take Nnoi or his car for granted. Because he's only got one working eye, his scarred one hidden by a red bandana, he gets a disabled badge that allows him to park wherever the fuck he wants.

As Nel's boyfriend, my brother, a loyal groupie (not to mention the only person we know who owns a car), he's got the job of ferrying us around from place to place and so we get to take full advantage of this.

He complains like you'd expect but it's no real hassle for him since we all hangout with a similar crowd anyway and his life (_read:_ cock) revolves around Nel.

I get comfy in the back of his vandalised blue people-carrier, pulling out some pillows and soft things to sit on since Nnoitra thought it would be smart to rip out all the seats except the driver's and a passenger's seat, which usually belongs to Nel.

Nnoitra is much older than me but it doesn't seem like that most of the time. Usually it's me who has to baby sit him and whenever I stay with him in his flat, I end up cooking, cleaning, and making sure he changes his socks everyday. He's got the mentality of a 7 year old.

I alternate between living with him and my parents. It's annoying having to explain where I disappear to until the wee hours of the morning to mum and dad, and since Nnoitra doesn't care what I do, I'll admit I'm happier staying with him.

Since we are both so used to each other (most of the time) it's pretty smooth sailing. The only thing we really ever argue about is the issue of Nel.

I can't explain why, but the fact that Nnoitra is dating her creeps me out. There's almost a 6 year age gap between them and the whole thing just draws on to many parallels with my relationship with Gin.

"Tomorrow me and Nel are gonna see that film she's been whining about." Nnoitra says after a few minutes.

It's so annoying; he knows I hate the fact that he and Nel are seeing (_read_: fucking) each other, but he keeps bringing it up in a poor attempt to make me see sense.

I keep my lips firmly shut and glare out the window. I hear Nnoitra sigh with irritation.

"Why don't you and Grimm come too?" He says, trying to make the whole thing seem innocent.

_Why? So we can watch you finger Nel in the back of the cinema?_

"I know what you're thinking, 'Quiorra." Nnoitra mutters in a low voice. "It's not about sex, or anything like that. I really do like her."

_Bullshit._

"Don't just ignore me. _Say_ something." His irritation finally gets the better of him and he runs a hand through his long black hair angrily.

We've stopped at some lights. There is a long silence as we wait for them to change to green.

"You're almost 6 years older than Nel." I say quietly; my voice sounds cold even to my own ears. "What else can you possible have in common except for sex?"

I half expect Nnoitra to turn around and punch me, but instead he curses under his breath and goes unusually quiet. His silence unnerves me .

* * *

><p>Nel and Grimmjow live a few houses apart. Grimmjow climbs in the back with me and Nel gets in the front next to Nnoitra. I watch them from the corner of my eye. She leans over to kiss him and he pulls away a little too quickly. I don't miss the brief flash of hurt cross Nel's face, but then she turns to look at me. I quickly turn to Grimmjow and pretend I've always been staring at the dirty window over his shoulder. I feel Nel's eyes boar into me for a few more seconds until she turns around and looks away.<p>

She'll never confront me. She knows me well enough to know what I'll say if she does.

* * *

><p>At the club we are able to relax for a bit before needing to set up. Nel orders her first (legal) round of drinks and suitably draws a lot of attention to herself, slinging an arm around my neck and smooching all feeling out of my left cheek.<p>

"What's her beef?" She shouts into my ear over the music, pointing to a dark skinned girl a few people away who began glowering at me as soon as I set foot inside.

"No one you need to worry about." I answer evasively.

Grimmjow appears behind up and tosses an arm around both of our shoulders.

"Halibel's a bit of a sour sweety, huh Douche." He grins at me knowingly and I send him an icy glare as he fills Nel in.

"He fucked her in the disabled toilets in some club somewhere and when he was done he just got up and pissed right off. Didn't say a single word to her. Halibel's been plotting his demise ever since."

I squirm internally as I watch Nel's smile fall for the third time on her own birthday.

"It wasn't like-" But I never finish because some sound tech guy from back stage signals us over to him and we begin to make preparations and set up our equipment.

I'm beginning to get sick of this feeling but I can't quite pin down what it is. It's crept up on me over the past few months and recently it seems to have intensified. Whenever I don't quite meet the pathetically low expectations Nel and Grimmjow have for me, I get really uncomfortable. I refuse to accept it as guilt. They aren't my friends, not really, and I'm not obliged to care about them. They must at least know me well enough to not expect anything from me.

I compose my face and try to concentrate on the wires I'm supposed to be sorting out at the front of the stage. There's already a large crowd as people gather around us to watch.

Just as I finish and make my way to my drum stool at the back of the stage, the water bottle clenched in my fist falls out of my hand, slippery with condensation, and rolls off the stage and into the crowd a few feet below. No one was really paying attention, sipping beers and talking amongst themselves.

I debate leaving it and just getting another one, but then I noticed it by someone's feet and decide to try and reach for it. Just as I kneel and stretch out my hand, it's kicked away by some obscenely drunk bald man. I huff in irritation and pull myself to my feet.

Just as I turn to hunt for another water bottle, I notice an arm stretching out of the crowd. Long fingers curled around my bottle, holding it out for me to take.

I blinked stupidly at it in surprise.

As I reached for it, I brushed fingers with the mysterious owner of the hand and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

"Thank you." I called as the arm was retracted. I saw a flash of orange before the lights came on and I was ushered to my seat.

Perched at the back of the stage behind my drums I get a good view. I spy Gin sat in a dark corner sipping a drink, looking creepy and sexy. He sees me looking and smiles that smile that makes me want to kiss and strangle him at the same time.

I feel an odd urge to throw my sticks away and stalk over to him, demanding an explanation as to why I was thrown aside; why aren't I good enough?

He raises his glass and tips it slightly, white teeth shining as he nods his head at me. His stare cuts through the crowd and I feel naked. He's doing that thing where he looks at me like I'm food laid out for him to eat and his icy blue gaze sends jolts down my spine.

I sigh and look down at my hands.

This has to stop.

When I glance up again, with the intention of shaking my head or sending him a frown, I notice Halibel is making a beeline for him. I feel my jaw go slightly slack as she crawls into his lap.

_No. Fucking. Way. _

She's ruined any chances we had of getting back together tonight. Or fucking. Not that I want that, I remind myself. But really, I should have known. Gin, however much he liked to indulge himself with men, always has an incredibly soft spot for women. I always felt like I wasn't enough.

Gin stares at me as he bites Halibel's lower lip and I feel myself go numb, daggers of envy sinking into my chest.

_Fuck this. Fuck you. Fuck everyone. _

I turn to look at the back's of Nel and Grimmjow who are stood in front of me, both clutching their respective base and electric. Grimmjow growls something into the microphone in a husky voice and the crowd begins to get restless. He works them up for a few seconds, because that's all it takes.

Then they both glance back at me and despite everything, I'm so glad I have them with me right now because otherwise I think I'd probably crumble into dust.

I allow some gratitude to slip through my mask of indifference and their identical expressions of confidence and determination remind me that I can do this with or without Gin and it really _isn't_ the end of the world.

The whole room looks at me as I tap my sticks together in a naked beat, counting us in.

"ONE, TWO, THREE...!" I scream.

We plunge straight into the first song. My blood begins to rage down every vein and vessel in my body. From the tips of my fingers to the ends of my hair, it feels like I'm being electrified.

Sweat begins to form on my skin, smudging my make-up and rolling down my back. My muscles are singing from the exertion but I can't bring myself to give a flying fuck about anything right now.

We don't look like much to be taken seriously on the outside; Grimmjow with his cocky attitude and blue hair, Nel with her huge boobs and ever so slight lisp, me with my emo dress code and heavy black make-up.

But being with them on stage like this reminds me why I put up with them.

I feel like I was born for this. For this moment. For the music.

_What do you think? _


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh my god, did you hear the crowd? My ears are still ringing!"

Nel pulls me in for a crushing hug and because of the lingering euphoria of being on stage, I let her. I recognise Grimmjow's wrist as it creeps around my neck and pulls me into a headlock. But again, my hands are still trembling as the adrenalin rush fades so I bend to his will.

"Not bad, Douche." He tells me with a grin.

"You weren't so terrible yourself." Grimmjow hears the smirk in my voice and his grin widens.

We're stood in a small room behind the stage celebrating with a bottle of vodka. After a handful of shots each, Nel goes to find Nnoitra, and Grimmjow slinks off to find a girl to take home for the night.

Since it's still relatively early and there's no telling how long the night will be, I decide to change out of my sweaty clothes and into something clean.

I slip into a black, tight, v-neck tee and some dark red slim-fitting jeans before reapplying some black eyeliner. Gay or not, I haven't not worn some kind of make-up since I was 14. It hides things I don't want people to see.

I ruffle my hair briefly before deciding I look good enough. I know I'm what people might consider as attractive but I can't honestly see it.

I like my eyes. I like my hands. I like the small silver stud in my bottom lip. But that's where it ends. My face seems to be frozen in a mild expression of superiority, and only changes when I feel intense feelings, or consciously change my expression in order to manipulate people. My hair is always a black mess and my skin, although clear and smooth, is so pale it seems virtually translucent; I look like a ghost.

By the time I've changed and I'm pushing my way towards the bar, the majority of people are well on their way to getting drunk. There are already some wasters staggering around in desperate need of an early night.

One petite, black-haired haired girl in particular. She looks about ready to drop any moment. As she passes me she trips over her feet with a curse and I brace her arm for her so she can regain her balance.

"Thanks, babe." She slurs happily, grinning up at me, her violet eyes unfocused.

"You're welcome." I tell her before the crowd sucks her away again.

I manage to find a seat at the bar but shortly regret it.

I'm given a clear view of Gin and Halibel, who are still wrapped around each other in their dark corner.

Gin never spent so long making out with me in a public place. He would have taken me home by now. I can't work out if that's really good or really bad.

I try to ignore my dark thoughts and debate catching up with Nel and Grimmjow who I can see are enjoying themselves. Although I don't really want to embarrass myself by drinking too much. But then again, Nel is dancing with a girl with long red hair in a tight green dress who looks kind of easy. Maybe I should think about finding someone to have some fun with.

And her hair is so beautiful…

Could it have been her who handed my water bottle to me when I dropped it off the stage? I eye her delicately painted fingernails and silver bangles that winked in the light. No. It couldn't. The arm that retrieved my water was definitely male. So there should be a guy with orange hair around somewhere.

Before I can scan the room I feel a soft touch on my back, I turn to look up at a smirking face framed by pink hair.

"Hey, Quiqui. Where's Nel and Grimmy? They ditch you?"

I send Szayel a cold glare for the nickname. It sounds stupid to me and always makes me feel like I'm the butt of some joke I don't understand. Szayel only laughs at my expression before unceremoniously sitting on my lap. I wonder if he see's the surprise in my face somewhere.

"Don't worry, he's not here tonight. You're safe." Szayel is of course referring to his boyfriend of three months who is the approximate weight and size of a small car. If the hulk had an uncle, then Yammy would be that uncle. He's a bodybuilder, or something along those lines.

"You're here on your own?" I ask Szayle, who is surveying the room and twirling a pink strand of hair between his fingers.

"Well yeah, I knew you guys were playing and I thought I'd come say hey. Is Grimm around?"

"Over there." I nod in the direction where Grimmjow is pressing a girl up against a wall and sucking her face off. Szayel laughs. "Nasty." He comments and I can't help but agree.

Szayel has known Grimmjow and Nel for years and I was introduced to him back when Heuco Mundo was first taking off. He's made a habit of always coming to see us play. We both fucked around for a few months before he met Yammy. He's a good screw but nothing more. At the time I was still too caught up with Gin to make enough of an effort to keep the relationship going so it just fizzled out by itself in the end.

But as I feel Szayel shift in my lap to get the attention of the girl behind the bar, I can't quite forget how tight and sweet and hot sex with him was.

My fingers twitch and I realise they're creeping towards his backside.

"See you later, 'Quiorra." Szayel slips off my lap, newly acquired drink in hand, oblivious to my thoughts, and saunters away towards Nel.

Maybe I should seek him out a little later on...

I sigh and irritably rub a hand over my face. Or maybe I'm just really fucking desperate.

I order a drink and study the glass thoughtfully. Maybe I should just go home. If I stay, I'll only get drunk and make a move on Szayel or just sit here moping.

Or I'll just sleep with someone else and it will be quick and dirty and not what I want at all.

I'm a mess. Stupid Gin.

Feeling fed up and resigning myself to an early night, I down my drink and stand up to find my band mates to tell them I'm leaving. Hopefully I'll have enough money for a cab home.

But as I turn to begin pushing my way through the crowds of people, I bump into someone. He sloshes his drink and I grab his wrist to steady it and suddenly I feel eyes boring into me. I recognise the person for their hands before I even look up into the face of the rescuer of my water bottle. But when I do, I'm still taken by surprise.

He is attractive. Disturbingly so.

His orange hair seems even more vivid from this close. It's short, tousled and looks as if he just rolled out of bed with it. He has a smooth jaw and faintly olive skin. Or maybe it's a tan. I can't tell without taking all his clothes off.

The boy has such an easy-going appearance about him that I instantly envy. As if he looks this good with no effort at all.

I'd believe that.

He's shoved the sleeves of his tight, white shirt up his arms and his dark jeans cling in all the best places.

But he's scowling. His hard, brown eyes glare down at me; his brows furrowed.

I don't even realise I'm still holding his glass steady for him until his wrist twitches in my hand and I realise he really might punch me in the face.

I try to manipulate my expression into looking apologetic, but I don't think I manage.

"I'm sorry." I tell him, trying to express my sincerity but it didn't sound sincere even to my own ears and I inwardly winced. He was going to knock me out. Why am I so socially retarded?

But then the orange-haired boy blinks at me and shrugs. "No problem." He says.

I hesitate for a second, trying to figure out why he hadn't just smashed my jaw in.

Then I let go of his wrist because I realise I'm still touching him and my hand feels sweaty all of a sudden.

I wipe them on my jeans and glance up at him again. He's frowning really hard now. I feel like laughing. He looks like he's thinking really hard about something. It's weirdly endearing.

"Are you leaving?" He asks, giving me a hard look. But I don't feel any heat in his words or in his gaze. Not the kind that would indicate he is about to hit me, anyway.

I raise an eyebrow.

The people around us keep on dancing and drinking, and the music carries on throbbing throughout the room; but me and this peculiar scowling person stand facing each other, sizing each other up.

I'm not sure what he sees when he looks at me.

"No, I'm not leaving." I lie. I wonder if he can tell, because then something slightly odd happens.

He smiles.

His brows are still furrowed, but his brown eyes soften and light up; his lips quirking slightly.

"Good. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Okay." I reply blankly, distracted by the way his smile makes something in my chest loosen. Gin never smiled at me like that.

Speaking of the bastard.

My eyes briefly glance to his dark corner, and sure enough, Halibel is still wrapped around his torso; their lips locked in a deep kiss. I also catch a flicker of steel-blue and I know he is watching me out of the corner of his eye.

"Pull up a seat." I tell the boy reaching back for my seat and he sits next to me on an empty bar stool.

"Thanks." He replies, and then there's a somewhat awkward pause as two strangers think about what to talk about.

"What d'you want to drink?" He asks suddenly, looking up at the menu above the bar.

"Do you want to share a jug?" I wonder aloud, thinking about how I'd really love a-

"Sure. Blue Lagoon alright with you?"

I nod, feeling my lips twitch.

"What's so funny?" The nameless boy asks, looking at me as if I've grown an extra head. Poor kid. My smile probably looks like the lear of a murderer.

"You read my mind, that's all."

"Oh." The guy shifts in his seat and does that scowling smile again, as if what I've just said makes him happy, and the looseness in my chest comes apart and begins to rattle around inside me like butterflies. The awkwardness leaves as quickly as it arrived.

The boy orders us our pitcher and then sets the drink between us. He smirks at me as he hands me a straw and I wonder whats so funny until he begins chasing the ice-cubes around the edge of the jug.

I stare at him for a few moments. His appearance is very misleading.

Then I join in because its funny and surreal; sitting in a snobby club with loud music and wasters, making a whirlpool with straws in a pitcher of alcohol with a boy whose name I don't even know.

Things degenerated quickly from there. We get a bit carried away.

One of us, I'm not sure who started it, began to blow bubbles into our Blue Lagoon and soon we were making an obnoxious amount of noise and spilling blue drink and ice-cubes all over the bar. I flicked one.

It slid down the glossy counter top, bounced off a drink, then fell onto the floor; but not before sliding down the waitress's leg causing her to jump and scream in surprise.

The boy grabbed my sleeve and we crept away through the crowd who were all looking over curiously at the bar to see what the commotion was about; my jaw was positively _aching_ with the effort it took me not to laugh.

When we were as far away from the bar as possible, the boy couldn't hack it anymore and broke down with tears of laughter, smothering his mouth with his hand in an effort to calm himself. I just stood there shaking, my lips sealed shut, trying to control my growing hysteria.

I'm glad the boy didn't comment on my lack of outward emotion. I can't help it. I'm not animated. Like when I found out we'd get to play in _King's_ tonight, I felt happy. Nel and Grimmjow hugged and did a dance and made a lot of noise, but I just stood there… feeling happy. And so people usually miss how I'm feeling and either write me off as shy, or a heartless bastard.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry." He gasps, doubling over and bracing himself against the wall.

"No, I should apologise." My voice is wobbly. "I flicked the ice at her leg."

That sets us off again and I actually have to sit down my jaw and diaphragm are hurting so much.

I catch the nameless boys' eye as we sit down and I know, dispute how little emotion I might show to the rest of the world, he is somehow able to read deeper and see the part of me inside that was pissing itself with laughter. I'm not sure how to feel about that.

"What's your name?" He asks me suddenly. I realise we are sitting on a sofa just far away enough from the bar and the music so we can actually hear each other properly. His voice is deeper than I imagined.

"Ulquiorra."

"It's very nice to meet you, Ulquiorra." He laughs and shakes my hand in a mock formal way and I think I must still be weak from trying not to laugh because I feel sort of giddy as he touches me.

"What about you?" I ask him. "What's your name?"

"Ichigo." Says Ichigo, and it feels so good to put a name to his face at last. He smirks sheepishly. "I probably should have introduced myself earlier."

"That's ok." I reply dumbly, suddenly hyper-aware that we are squished together on a sofa in a dimly lit corner with our legs touching; I can even feel his breath washing over my face.

"Were you honestly leaving earlier?" He blurts, snapping me from my thoughts. "Before I asked to buy you a drink?"

"I was." I answer honestly, surprising myself.

"How come?" He asks, tilting his head curiously. "Didn't you come with that blue haired guy and that girl who played the base? Your band were fucking awesome, by the way."

"Thank you." I wonder if I'm blushing. I wonder if I _can_ blush. I sigh and try to control myself.

"I was sat on my own just... feeling kind of sorry for myself." I say, answering his earlier question. Uncomfortable with the words that don't seem to want to stop poring out of my mouth, I quickly move on. "But then you came along and made my night."

Ichigo laughs, his eyes suddenly dancing with amusement as he remembers the Blue Lagoon we spilled all over the bar. His eyes flicker as he remembers something else.

"I'm sorry if I came on too strong, before. I told myself I'd buy you a drink whether you wanted one or not." He chuckles nervously as my insides do a forward roll for some odd reason.

"I, er." Ichigo suddenly looks slightly apprehensive. "I haven't, y'know, tried to chat someone up in a while. I was with someone for a long time and I don't really know any different."

I hold in a snort.

"I can relate to that. I was with someone for years, until he decided he didn't want me anymore. Worst part is, the bastard isn't even worth the amount of time I spent moping over him."

"Yeah." Ichigo frowns at his shoe, obviously in deep thought. Just when I wonder if he's thinking about his mysterious ex, his head snaps up and a pink blotchy blush is spreading across his face and disappearing below his shirt collar.

"Do you want to dance?"

"Okay." I don't have to think about my answer.

We make to stand and as I lead us through the crowd, I can feel Ichigo's hand settle on my lower back. I fight not to squirm.

When we are surrounded by a gyrating mass of people I stop and turn.

As I step closer to Ichigo, personal space flying out the window, I try to gauge his reaction; hoping to god he's gay and is as attracted to me as I am to him.

He better not be expecting some sort of heterosexual bromance or he's in for the shock of his life.

Winding my arms around his shoulders, my hands sinking into the hair on the nape of his neck and my body gently pressing flush to his, I raise my eyebrows and ask for permission.

"Shall we cut to the chase?"

Ichigo releases a breathy laugh and I feel his hands settle on my hips; gently at first, before pulling my closer and more tightly.

"Whatever you want." He replies huskily.

The way he says that, I know I have him. He isn't acting indifferent about it; he's actually saying _._ as in _you can have anything from me_.

He's giving me permission.

And it makes me hard.

A heavy baseline fills our bones as we move together. This kind of generic bullshit music isn't usually to my tastes, but when you have someone to dance with, the whole experience becomes incredibly hot. Our hips thrum together as one and I let my forehead rest against his, closing my eyes and breathing his scent in.

I open my eyes slightly, gazing downwards. I watch his hips move fluidly and wish I could take his tight shirt off to see his naked body move to the throbbing music. I groan quietly.

I raise my eyes and notice Ichigo is watching me. I feel a little sheepish. And a little unnerved. But then Ichigo's hands begin to wonder. I idly muse if he's a mind reader. I feel his hands smooth around to my lower back, before he pulls me even tighter against him. My breath catches in my throat as I watch his brown eyes darken and gain a glazed sheen of arousal.

I think he sees the smile I want to show him somewhere in my expression because suddenly he's leaning in. I feel high. Elated.

When our lips finally meet, oddly, my first thought is that how can straight men be straight? Because kissing Ichigo is fucking amazing. Everyone has to try this.

I grip his hair in my hands and he sighs against my mouth. Moving my lips against his, pressing myself against him, I feel his hand on my lower back creep under my shirt. His hands are large and warm and I feel goosebumps rise where he touches my skin. This is heaven.

I moan against his mouth before I can stop myself as I feel the caress of his tongue against my lips and I part them to let him in.

I'm ashamed to say I nearly melt when I taste the hot, open wetness of his mouth.

Ichigo growls, low and deep, the noise vibrating across my skin, and then I feel him. His cock pressing against me through his jeans; hot and hard. I grip his hair and press my pelvis into him, letting him feel how hard he makes me. I sigh into his mouth. I want to fuck him so badly...

Ichigo's hand on me tighten, his thumb resting on the groove of my bone and then I feel the scrape of his teeth against my lips and all I can think is _touchmetouchmetouchme..._

"Ichigo? Is that _you_?"

We break apart immediately; my lips feel swollen and Ichigo looks so fuckable right now and my cock is twitching and whoever interrupted us better have a _fucking good reason_.

The guy who butted in pretty hot, I'll give him that; long blood-red hair tied in a braid and jagged tribal tattoo's that disappear under his clothes. But his face is twisted into an ugly, sneering expression. Plus he gives off a very asshole-y aura. I immediately want to punch him.

"Renji?" Ichigo asks incredulously, pushing me away slightly. I look at him, feeling confused and irritated. Getting cock-blocked has made my grumpy. "What are you doing here?"

Renji snorts, spraying my forearm with snot. "Having a night out. What does it look like?"

Then he mutters under his breath darkly and gives Ichigo a degrading look. "So you're into gothic shit now?"

Ichigo's face collapses in outrage. I realise Renji is referring to _me_ as 'gothic shit'.

Then a lot of other things click into place as well.

"Yeah, he is." I wind myself around Ichigo's middle and send Renji a steely glare. "He's come a long way considering the fudge he used to pack."

Renji stiffens, obviously not counting on me being anything more than a quiet emo-type. But he quickly gets over his surprise and I watch as his lips curl into a nasty smirk.

_"I was with someone for a long time..."_

This is a clear case of sour grapes. But I would have thought Ichigo might have had better taste. This guy might have it in the looks department, but his personality fucking sucks.

"Well." Renji sneers. "I hope you're both very _happy_ together." His voice has enough malice in it to make Ichigo wince, but he steels himself.

"Fuck off, Renji, I mean it."

But Renji just laughs at him. "Speaking of fucking..." He turns to me. "You should know, Ichigo's frigid when it comes to sex. Don't expect a blowjob out of him." Ichigo looks mortified. I somehow find what Renji just said hard to believe.

"Well I'll be the judge of that tonight, not you." Before the lumbering retard can open his mouth to respond, I've twisted his arm behind his back in what I know is a painfully tight grip. His eyes widen in surprise and he hisses in pain. The people around us stop to look, obviously anticipating a fight, but I ignore them.

"Enough bullshit. Get out." There's no escaping the dangerous tone of my voice and I know he's taken aback by the bite of my grip. He better think carefully if he wants to fight me. I won't be pushed around by anyone. Not again.

But it turns out Renji is a coward. All bullies are. He didn't need much more persuasion. We watch him leave as he rubs his wrist and glares at me murderously.

Whatever. Fucking looser.

I turn to Ichigo who is scowling deeply, trying to mask his embarrassment.

"I... I'm sorry. Renji, he..."

But before he can finish, we are interrupted again.

The red-haired girl who was dancing with Nel earlier appears, linking Ichigo's arm with her own and forcing as much space as possible between us.

"We need to go, Kurosaki-kun." She lilts. I notice her red hair isn't really that striking and her huge boobs make her look top-heavy and a little bit ridiculous. "Rukia needs to go home." The way she says it makes it sound like she's inviting him to bed.

Bitch.

But Ichigo looks annoyed.

"Seriously? God, that midget needs to learn some self control. What's she been drinking?"

The skank laughs loudly as if Ichigo has just said something absolutely hilarious.

"More like what _hasn't_ she been drinking!"

I stare at this girl with a slightly open mouth. She's clearly a few cans short of a six-pack.

I turn to Ichigo who looks, to my pleasure, extremely irritated by this girls presence.

"_Right_." He bites out, before turning to me, his expression softening. "I'm sorry, it seems I've gotta go. My friend, Rukia-"

"It's fine." No it's fucking not. I want his number.

Ichigo reads my mind.

"Erm, Inoue, can I meet you with Rukia by the entrance? I just want to-"

"But Kurosaki-kun! Rukia's is in such a state, I really think we ought to leave now."

"Where is she?"

"I need you to help me find her."

"_Inoue_. You can't wait _five seconds_?" Ichigo asks exasperatedly.

"Nope." Inoue bats her long, fake eyelashes, obviously trying to charm him but she just looks demented.

I open my mouth. "Then I'll... "

"Go? Thanks." The fucking bitch cuts me off. I was going to add_ ...help you look for her_, but it seems I've been dismissed.

She tugs on Ichigo's arm. "Come on, let's go."

Ichigo looks torn in two and it suddenly hits me how pitiful I must look standing there wanting him to choose me over one of his friends.

"Bye." I tell him, before turning around and slipping away.

_Fuckfuckfuck. You __**idiot**__! Go back there and punch that slag in the FACE...!_

Suddenly someone reaches out to snag my arm and for a heart-stopping moment, I think it's Ichigo, but...

Nel looks at me with a frown, concern marring her beautiful features.

"What the hell is wrong Ulquiorra?" She asks anxiously, trying to read my expression and obviously seeing something thats alarming. "You look like you've seen a ghost." When I don't say anything her face softens.

"Come with me." She says. "I need to loo."

I don't question why she needs me to go with her. I just hope she doesn't pee in front of me.

"God my shoes are fucking killing me..." Nel sits next to one of the sinks in the ladies bathroom and toes off her new tan leather boots. She pulls off a dirty old sock and massages her foot. "Oh man, they're rubbing. I need new socks."

I silently agree, wrinkling my nose.

"So." She lets go of her foot, and crosses her legs, lounging over the sink and trying to look casual. "What happened out there?"

Then her face falls slightly.

"Is it him?" My head snaps up to look at her. "I knew we should have turned Gin's offer down. You need to stay away from him. I'm sorry you felt pressured to agree to this just because of me and Grimm..."

She's misunderstanding. This isn't about Gin. This is about an awkward boy with an angry smile who I let get away. I can still feel his teeth on my lips...

_Get a grip. Don't let anyone see how much he got to you. Hide._

I exhale slowly and force my features into their usual indifferent expression.

"I'm fine."

There is a long silence that follows my words, punctured only by the steady vibrations of the music outside. Nel raises an eyebrow in disbelief. She has me cornered when my defences are down and I think she knows it. She could crack me like an egg if she wanted to, what with my feelings running so close to the surface.

Suddenly I don't trust her. Why shouldn't she pull me apart when I'm on my own like this? After how difficult I make her life, I deserve no less.

"Ulquiorra..." She slips off the sink ledge and makes to move towards me.

My body goes rigid, bracing myself for whatever comment or sneering remark she might make on how I'm actually so utterly _weak_...

But she hugs me and somehow thats worse.

No one's hugged me like this in what feels like a lifetime. She smells like girl and apple sourz and something earthy.

The bathroom door bursts open and the small, drunk, dark-haired girl from earlier (who I'm surprised lasted this long) flies in and promptly throws up in the sink Nel had just been sitting next to.

Nel immediately rushes to her side, her maternal instincts taking over as she soothes the girl as she vomits quite impressively all over the vanity mirror. Nel is busy trying to clean the girls' hands and face, so I scrape her hair out of her eyes and tie it back for her with a hairband on my wrist. We try to get the girl to talk, to tell us her name.

"I'm Rukiaaaa! Who are youu? Where's Ichi?" She slurred terribly.

"I'm Nel." Nel says, looking bemused. "This is Ulquiorra. What's Ichi?"

Ichi? As in Ichigo?

Suddenly the bathroom door is kicked open and Ichigo is standing there looking ready to throw something.

"Rukia, you fucktard! The taxi left without us, someone got there first. I hope your happy because now we're stuck until..."

"But Ichigooooo!"

He finally takes in the scene in front of him and when his eyes land on me he blinks owlishly.

"Oh hey." He scratches the back of his head and goes slightly pink. "Sorry for yelling."

"Hi." Is all I can say with some of Rukia's sick on my jeans and my hands full of paper towels as I attempt to clean myself up.

"You guys know each other?" Nel asks in surprise, but the bathroom door opens again, cutting her off. Inouw stands in the doorway, frozen in place.

Her knuckles go white as they grip the doorframe.

I wonder if she has a crush on Ichigo. But it seems he likes cock. Poor girl. I feel _so_ bad for her.

"Oh great!" She chirps shrilly. "Everyone's here. Let's get going then."

My heart lurches and my brain works furiously to look for a way to keep Ichigo close to me for just a moment longer.

My answer enters the bathroom and hits Inoue with the door as it swings open.

"Don't stand there, Kid. I gotta piss." Nnoitra stands there looking agitated, his hands on his fly. He pushes past her and goes into a spare cubicle, not bothering to close the door behind him.

"Nnoi, can we give this girl a lift home? She's had too much to drink. And my friend, Ichigo." I ask him, pointing out who I mean. Nnoitra looks over his shoulder at us and smiles toothily at Nel before looking from Rukia to Ichigo to me.

"Sure." He replies, and I see him shrug his shoulders. "It's boring here and I wanted a burger anyway." He finishes and zips himself up before kissing Nel as he makes his way to the sink to wash his hands. "Anyone feeling a McDonald's?"

Rukia's response is to projectile vomit all over Inoue.

We sneak away as she cleans herself up, dragging Grimmjow with us and laughing our asses off all the way out to the car.

_Well I'm settling into university life rather well. I wrote this with a hangover and I've been living off bourbon biscuits for 4 days. Don't expect too much activity from me for a while :D_


End file.
